


The Book of Divine Refreshment

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Oxford Tales [1]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1423195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D S Hathaway is recovering in hospital from injury sustained on a previous case, when D I Lewis is assigned a new one.  When Lewis collects Hathaway from hospital they are called in to a second suspicious death.  Are they connected and what is the significance of the ancient Book of Divine Refreshment?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book of Divine Refreshment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the smallfandombang on Live Journal. Beautiful cover art by neevebrody here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1420972
> 
> Many thanks to my betas, notluvulongtime and fortesomniare

“Right, what can you tell me so far?” Chief Superintendent Innocent asked.

“The body of a student was found behind the Eagle & Child shortly after 3.30 this morning,” Inspector Lewis replied. “It’s believed to be Ben Hamilton, studying French and Italian at Worcester College. We’re waiting for his parents to arrive to formally identify him.”

“Who found the body?”

“One of the drivers from the taxi company nearby. He had a job taking a couple to the airport. He says he thought the lad had got drunk and fallen asleep, so he went over to shake him to wake him up and discovered the stab wound in his chest.”

“Could he give you any further information?”

“No, it seems he’d been at home yesterday evening with his wife and kids and had an early night since he was starting early this morning. We’ll interview him again later, when he’s got over some of the shock, but I doubt he’ll have anything else to say.”

“I agree. What else do you have?”

“Uniform have started making enquiries and we’ll go back to the pub this evening to see if anyone remembers seeing Hamilton in there last night. But there’s no guarantee that he was there. I’ve got two of the DCs at the college trying to find out his movements yesterday. Other than that we shall have to wait for forensics and the results of the post mortem.”

“Do you want me to find you someone to act as your sergeant whilst Hathaway’s in hospital?”

“No, I can manage for a couple of days. Hathaway should be back by then.”

“He would be better off resting at home.”

“With respect, ma’am, I think he would be better at the station. He should be fine so long as he’s busy in the building. He doesn’t need to go out at all.”

“Okay, but if I hear so much as a whisper that he’s gone outside on police business, even if it’s to interview a nonagenarian grandmother, I will have him packed off home before either of you can say ‘police procedure’.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Lewis felt satisfied that Innocent had agreed to Hathaway coming back to work immediately. If he was left at home he would allow the events that had led him to being in hospital to prey on his mind, which was something Lewis was keen to avoid. At least if he was in the station he would have other matters to occupy him and people around to distract him.

***

That evening Lewis was at the hospital at the beginning of visiting hours. He found Hathaway in a side ward.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I should be out of here tomorrow afternoon. I did try to get them to let me out today.” Hathaway’s sigh implied failure on a grand scale.

“What happened?”

“Doctor Hobson was here. She told everyone, in no uncertain terms, that I was not to be released before tomorrow. And when I said that she couldn’t stop me if I wanted to leave, she picked up all my clothes and threatened to take them home with her.”

“You could have chased after her.”

“With these pyjama trousers the best I can manage is a shuffle to the bathroom.”

Lewis chuckled. He gave Hathaway the good news that Innocent had agreed he could return to work and then started to fill him in with the details of the new case. Part way through, he realised that Hathaway was no longer listening.

“James?”

Hathaway shook his head. “I should have been able to save him.”

“Have you been listening to what I was saying?”

“Of course.”

“Then what was that last comment about?”

“You said Worcester.”

“Right, Worcester College. Oh, Black came from Worcester.”

“And my mind went back. I’m so sorry, sir. Carry on; I promise I’ll pay attention.”

Lewis realised Hathaway was clearly upset. “No, I shouldn’t have been telling you this yet; I just thought it might distract you. I see they’ve still got you on sedatives so it’s no surprise you’re not thinking clearly. We’ll go through it again once you’re back at work.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Even so. I spoke to Lyn last night, she was telling me about the birthday party my grandson went to.”

Lewis continued to tell Hathaway about the party, which he slowly embellished as he realised Hathaway was falling asleep. Once he was happy that his sergeant wasn’t going to wake up the minute he moved, he stood up quietly and left the small ward.

***

The following day Lewis worked his way through the reports. So far the last known sighting of Hamilton had been shortly after eight o’clock -- when one of the students on his course had seen him leaving the college as they returned; they had no idea where he was going. The preliminary forensic report confirmed death by stabbing with a thin blade; Laura Hobson wasn’t aware of anything else of interest, but had promised that she would keep Lewis informed if she found something. Uniform had taken statements from many of the patrons of the Eagle & Child; there were a number who said they might have seen Hamilton, but without knowing him personally, couldn’t be sure. Lewis set those aside, planning to give them to Hathaway the following day, knowing that checking those sort of statements was the kind of work his meticulous nature excelled in and which would keep him safely occupied in the station.

By four o’clock, Lewis had decided he could make no further progress. Accordingly he called in to see Innocent, to bring her up to date, and tell her that he was going to collect Hathaway from hospital.

“Are you sure he’ll be okay on his own?” she asked.

“Not at all. I’ll take him back to mine for a couple of days.”

“Just so long as you don’t discuss work with him out of hours.”

“The thought would never cross my mind, ma’am.”

Innocent gave him a look that said ‘If you think I believe that you aren’t a very good detective’ but nodded her agreement anyway.

Lewis collected Hathaway from the hospital, made sure he understood all the instructions the nurse gave them and ignored Hathaway’s objections to going home with Lewis. He held the door to his car open while Hathaway sat down carefully to avoid putting unnecessary strain on the stitches in his side.

They were on their way to Lewis’ flat when the inspector’s phone rang. He passed it to Hathaway to answer.

“Ah, Hathaway,” the voice at the other end said. “Good thing he’s collected you. Put me on loud speaker, please.”

Hathaway did as he was told.

“We’ve just had a call from Oriel College. A Dr Evan Jones has been found dead in his rooms. It may not be suspicious, but in the circumstances I’d like you to check it out, Lewis. And I know what I said, but you’d better take Hathaway; apparently Dr Jones lectured in theology, so he may prove useful.”

Once Innocent had rung off, Lewis turned to Hathaway. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked.

“Oh yes, nothing like a dead doctor of divinity to drag me from my despond.”

“Hmpf.”

***

They arrived to find that uniform were waiting for them.

“The body’s in here, sir,” one of the police officers indicated the room. “And Dr Hobson is on her way.”

Lewis had a quick look at the body and the surrounding area, but there was nothing obviously untoward, so he left further investigation until after Laura had conducted her examination of the body. Hathaway had stayed with the constable, so he went back to join him.

“Who found him?” he asked.

“A student named Eleanor Dalton. She’s in one of the rooms downstairs.”

Lewis and Hathaway went down to see her. The girl was sitting on a settee, clasping a mug of tea, whilst the constable sitting beside her talked quietly to her. On Lewis’ arrival the constable stood up, but Lewis indicated that she should resume her seat. Lewis and Hathaway sat on a couple of chairs facing the settee.

“I’m Inspector Robbie Lewis, and this is my sergeant, James Hathaway. We’d like to ask you some questions if possible, please, Eleanor.”

“I’ll do what I can,” was the tearful reply, “and please call me Ellie.”

“Thank you, Ellie, just do your best, we know that you’ve had a great shock. I understand that you found Dr Jones. Could you tell us what happened?”

“We had a tutorial with him this afternoon, myself, Antonia and Giles. Toni and I had come together, but Toni saw someone from the drama society who she wanted to speak to, so she stopped and I said I’d go ahead, because I had a question for Dr Jones.” Ellie paused to take a breath and a sip of tea.

“I knocked on Dr Jones’ door, but there was no reply. So I tried the handle and when the door opened I went in.”

“Isn’t it unusual to just walk in?” Hathaway asked.

“Dr Jones sometimes worked with headphones on, so he wouldn’t hear us knock. If we had a tutorial, he expected us to come in. It had happened before.”

She stopped talking and Lewis could see that she was remembering the scene.

“What did you find?”

“Dr Jones was on the floor. I could see his chest moving, so I knew he was breathing. I heard Toni coming up the stairs, so I called out to her to phone for an ambulance. Then I put him in the recovery position. I didn’t know what to do next so I stood by the door; I didn’t want to stay too close to him and Toni wouldn’t come in.”

Ellie burst into tears. The constable put an arm round her and they waited until she had stopped crying.

“You did all you could,” Lewis said.

“But I didn’t notice he’d stopped breathing. I was sure he was breathing and then I heard the sound of the ambulance and looked out of the window to watch the paramedics coming across and then I looked back at him and he wasn’t breathing. And I couldn’t go near him.”

“It didn’t take long for the paramedics to reach him from the time they arrived at the college and you said he was still breathing then.”

Ellie nodded.

“They were unable to do anything for him, so there is no reason for you to blame yourself. I don’t have any more questions for you for the moment; we may want to ask some more another day, but for now Constable Staples will escort you back to your rooms. Do you have friends who you can be with?”

Ellie nodded again and stood up.

“Thank you,” she said.

Once the girl had left, Lewis turned to Hathaway. “Let’s see if Laura’s found anything of interest.”

They went back upstairs and joined Laura Hobson, who was still examining the body.

“Can you tell us anything yet?” Lewis asked.

“It might be natural causes, but my suspicions are that it’s poison, so you’ll need to do a thorough inspection in the room.”

Hathaway nodded. “I’ll phone for forensics.”

Laura looked up. “And what’s he doing here? I thought he was on sick leave.”

“Special permission from Innocent -- dead body, specialist subject theology.”

“Hmpf. I’ve done all I can for now. The body can be taken to the morgue so that I can do a proper post mortem.”

Lewis and Laura spoke briefly about possible sources of the poison and then watched as the body was taken away. As it was lifted up, a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

“What’s that?”

Lewis took one of the latex gloves from the packet Laura offered him, carefully lifted the paper and put it in a plastic bag. Hathaway peered over his shoulder.

“That looks like it’s been torn off a manuscript,” he said.

All three of them looked round the room but couldn’t see anything that it could have come from.

“We’ll get forensics to keep an eye out for the rest of the document, but in the meantime I think I should be getting you home,” Lewis said. “I’ll let Innocent know; and if there are any developments, they’ll phone me.”

***

Lewis had been kept updated that evening, but there had been no reports of anyone acting unusually in the vicinity and whilst there had been a number of people coming and going, they all had legitimate reasons for being there. Statements had been taken, but given that there had been no prior requirement to notice who had been there, memories were distinctly vague.

Accordingly, when they arrived at the station the following morning, Lewis gave Hathaway the two piles of statements and left him to start working through them.

Lewis went to the senior officers meeting, where Innocent confirmed that, although they were dealing with two separate cases, both were being left with them for the moment. For various reasons, they were currently short-staffed; and with all the teams working on at least one other case, it seemed reasonable, as far as Innocent was concerned, to leave the death of a theologian with Lewis and Hathaway. There were no complaints from the other inspectors, who were entirely happy not to have anything else on their plate.

Lewis spent the rest of the morning following up with various officers to confirm which areas had already been covered in the two cases and to suggest possible ideas that should be checked on. When he returned to the office, it was almost lunchtime. Hathaway seemed to have made considerable progress with the statements, so Lewis suggested they get a takeaway coffee and a sandwich and find somewhere quiet so that Hathaway could summarise his thoughts whilst they ate.

Once they had found a suitable bench, Hathaway started to explain what he had found.

“There are sufficient people who think they may have seen Hamilton with two other people in the Eagle & Child the evening before he was killed to make me believe he was there. However, neither of his potential companions has responded yet, which seems slightly strange.”

“Maybe they haven’t heard yet. We’ll get some posters put up in the bar encouraging them to come forward.”

“The other strange thing is that a few of the people at his college have expressed surprise that he was in the pub at all. Apparently he no longer drank, claiming that alcohol caused a reduction in the receptiveness to one’s spiritual nature.”

“So if he was at the pub, then it was presumably because of his companions. Not that he had to have been drinking alcohol, of course. I’ll ask Laura if they found any signs that he had been drinking when they did the PM.”

Hathaway nodded.

“Did you have any greater success with the Jones’ statements?”

“Not really. I’ve made a list of people who were definitely seen either going in or out of Jones’ rooms or on the staircase. In addition, there was any number of people who were in the vicinity but not actually in the specific area and who could have slipped in without being noticed. Half of the statements appear to contradict the other half. There was even one of the dons who denied seeing Jones at all until DC Carter pointed out to him that Jones had been with him and three others first thing in the morning, to which his reply was, ‘Good heavens, I thought yesterday was Monday’.”

“About par for the course then.”

“I’m afraid so. Oh, forensics phoned just before lunch. They’ve finished with that fragment that was underneath Jones’ body. They’ll send it over; so we should have it when we get back. There was nothing useful from the paper; we shall have to see if we can make any sense of what is written on it.”

***

The fragment was waiting for them on their return to the office. It was the bottom left hand corner from a letter. Lewis peered at it as Hathaway, whose eyesight was better, read out:

“ ‘Were those who cannot’ .. the next word begins K N, so possibly ‘know’. The second line reads ‘our hopes of finding true enlightenment’ and then W O.”

“Does it mean anything to you?”

“Possibly some form of sect.”

“Plenty of those past and present in Oxford.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Julie came in.

“We’ve been following up some of the people who were named as having been in the right part of Oriel College, but who hadn’t come forward to give us a statement. Mostly people from other colleges. We hadn’t had any problems until we came to a Father Paul, who is refusing to talk to anyone.”

“And you think we might be able to get him to talk?”

“I think he’s more likely to co-operate if you were to see him, sir.”

“Right, we’ll follow it up. Thank you, Julie.”

Once she had left, Lewis turned to Hathaway. “No time like the present.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed out of the station.”

“As far as I can tell, clerics, whether dead or alive, are permissible so long as I accompany you.”

“Yes, sir.”

They found Father Paul in one of the college chapels. He was clearly unimpressed that they had come to see him and ignored them until Lewis spoke.

“I understand that you were in Oriel College yesterday morning, visiting Dr Evan Jones.”

“So?”

“Can you tell us why you went to see him?”

“I went to collect something from him.”

“And what was that?” Hathaway asked.

“A document.”

“Did you collect it?”

“Yes.”

“Can we see the document?”

“If you must.”

Father Paul opened a leather document wallet and displayed the document, carefully keeping his hand over the corner. When Hathaway reached out his hand to take the document, Father Paul moved the wallet backwards and hastily zipped it up again.

“This is much too valuable for you to handle,” he said.

“I understand. Can you tell us where you were yesterday afternoon between 2 and 3 o’clock?”

“I was taking a service in Woodlands Nursing Home. Is there anything else, gentlemen?”

“Not at the moment, thank you.”

Lewis and Hathaway left the chapel, conscious that Father Paul was glaring at them until they were out of sight.

“I’d lay odds that that was the document our fragment belongs to,” Hathaway said when they were back outside.

“Agreed. But until we know more about the likely poison and how it would have been administered, we’re not in a position to do any more. And without formal confirmation of that we shall have to tread carefully. At least his alibi should be easy enough to check.”

“I’ll get on to it when we get back to the station.”

There had been no further developments on either case, so once Hathaway had confirmed Father Paul’s alibi, Lewis collected a number of reports together and announced that they were leaving. Hathaway seemed on the verge of objecting, but then his shoulders sagged and he was forced to admit that the day’s work had exhausted him.

“They did warn you at the hospital that this was likely to happen. You can rest on my settee whilst I work through this lot,” Lewis said, indicating the reports he’d packed up. “It’ll be quieter at home anyway.”

***

Hathaway had admitted total defeat and gone to bed at about half past nine. Lewis had continued looking through the reports, searching for any possible clues, but had finally decided that it would make more sense to get some sleep and start again in the morning with fresh eyes. He set his alarm for 6.30 and noted that that would give him slightly more than five hours sleep.

Lewis was therefore rather less than happy when his phone rang at just past five o’clock. He listened to what the duty officer had to tell him and groaned once he had rung off. Not wanting to disturb Hathaway, he dressed quietly and had started to write a note, when there was a knock on his bedroom door. He opened it, to find Hathaway also fully dressed.

“You are supposed to be getting your rest,” Lewis said.

“I’d rather come with you.”

“It’s up to you. Although Innocent may not be happy.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“So long as you understand that she could order you to take leave.”

“We’re short-staffed, I doubt that she will. So what’s happened?”

“Father Paul has been found dead.”

“Has he been poisoned too?”

“No, apparently he’s been stabbed.”

***

Father Paul’s body was in his room in the house he shared. He had been found by Father Michael, who was currently sitting in their shared kitchen accompanied by a police constable.

Lewis introduced himself and Hathaway.

“Can you tell us how you found Father Paul?”

“I’ve already told this constable, as well as when I made the phone call.”

“I realise that, but it is important that you tell us as well.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I seem to be somewhat shaken.”

“That’s okay. We understand.”

“We were going to say Lauds in the chapel as we always do on Thursday mornings. It was time to leave but Father Paul hadn’t come down, so I went to see if he was okay. He’s normally the first one to be ready, so I wondered if he wasn’t well.”

“Had you any reason to think that? Had he complained of feeling ill last night?”

“No, not at all, but I couldn’t think of any other reason; it was so out of character. I knocked and when he didn’t respond, I opened his door – we don’t have locks – and saw him lying on the floor. I don’t actually remember what I did next, but I know I phoned 999.”

“We may need you to confirm whether you touched the body or anything else in the room, but that’s all for the moment.”

Lewis paused and Hathaway took over the questioning.

“How many of you live in this house?”

“Myself, Father Paul and Father Simon. Simon’s in Worcester at the moment, attending a symposium. I suppose I ought to contact him.”

“If you give us the details, we can do that.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But would it be better coming from me?”

“We’ll need to confirm that he was at that address last night anyway.”

“Right. Because you think he could have done it. That means you think I could have done it.” Father Michael was starting to panic.

“We have to keep an open mind at this stage,” Lewis hastened to reassure the priest. “But it will help us if we can eliminate your housemate.”

Father Michael didn’t look particularly reassured, but nevertheless calmed down a fraction.

Another constable approached, “Dr Hobson says that you can go in.”

Lewis and Hathaway went through. Laura looked up. The expression on her face hardly changed, but Lewis had the strong impression that she was unhappy to see Hathaway there.

“What can you tell us?” Lewis asked.

“Death caused by a single stab wound. There was a letter opener next to the body, but I’m not convinced that that was the weapon. I won’t be able to confirm anything until I’ve performed the post mortem.”

“Time of death?”

“Between 1 and 2 this morning.”

“Anything else?”

“Not as yet.”

The two policemen had almost left the room when Laura called Lewis back.

“He shouldn’t be here,” she said, indicating Hathaway. “He may think he’s okay, but he needs sleep and regular meals, not to be charging round at stupid o’clock in the morning, surviving on a diet of coffee and cigarettes. I thought you were looking after him.”

“He insisted he wanted to come. What was I supposed to do? Order him back to bed?”

“Yes!”

Lewis glared at Laura and went to follow Hathaway down the stairs. He could hear his sergeant asking Father Michael a question and then there was a pause and a crash.

Lewis ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Hathaway lying on the floor, with the priest kneeling beside him.

“I didn’t do anything,” Father Michael began. “He was asking me something and then he just fainted.”

Hathaway groaned and started to sit up, but Lewis pushed him on the chest to stop him.

“Lie there for a couple of minutes and then we’ll help you out to the car.”

A few minutes later, Hathaway said “I’m okay now.”

Lewis gave him an arm and he sat up slowly, struggling to his feet.

Father Michael offered an arm, too, “Can I be of assistance?”

With the aid of the two men, Hathaway made it to the car. Once he was inside, Lewis turned to thank the priest.

“What was he asking you?”

“About a document Paul had yesterday. The sergeant said Paul had put it in his document bag, but that he couldn’t see the bag when you were in the room. I was surprised; Paul was extremely tidy and always left the bag on his desk, so it should have been visible.”

“We’ll look out for it when we search the room, but if you do find it elsewhere, please let us know.”

“Of course, inspector.”

Lewis drove Hathaway back to his flat. He refrained from saying anything, contenting himself with putting his arguments in order for when he was faced with the inevitable ‘I’m fine now, no reason why I shouldn’t come into work’. Instead, as soon as they were through the front door, Hathaway trailed into the spare bedroom and pausing only to remove the top layers of clothing, meekly climbed back into bed.

Lewis made them both a mug of tea and then joined him in the bedroom. His sergeant looked the picture of misery, but he accepted the tea when it was offered to him.

“I presume I don’t need to tell you what I’m thinking,” Lewis began. “And don’t expect any sympathy; it was entirely self-inflicted. You will stay in bed until lunchtime and then, depending how you look, I might let you come into work in the afternoon. I’ll tell Innocent that you realised that you’d overdone it and were sleeping in this morning; she won’t find that a problem.”

“What about Dr Hobson?”

“I’ll let her know you’ve gone back to bed and that you promise to be more sensible in future.”

“Will she believe it?”

“That really depends on how convincing I am when I tell her. Which in turn will depend on whether you go back to sleep now.”

Hathaway obligingly lay down and closed his eyes.

“And just so you know,” Lewis added “I don’t blame you for what you did. I know you want to commit yourself fully to every case we deal with, but there are times when you need to listen to others and accept their judgement on when to pull back. And I’m not talking only about our current case; it applies equally to what happened with Black.”

“I continued, even after you told me to draw back.”

“Yes, and you paid the price for it.”

Lewis watched as Hathaway curled up into a ball.

“We can’t change what happened and we don’t know if things would have ended differently if you hadn’t acted as you did,” Lewis continued. “But that is all in the past. So don’t start thinking that you’ve got to make even more effort for this case to purge your previous efforts; it doesn’t work like that. All I’m asking for is that you give the best of your ability to our cases. And if the best is half days then that will be enough for me. Now get some sleep.”

Lewis had watched Hathaway slowly relax as he spoke. He went to grab some cereal before heading out again, pausing to look in on Hathaway as he left. He was pleased to see that the younger man had fallen asleep.

***

Later that morning Lewis was beginning to disappear under the pile of paperwork. He was starting to wish that he had Hathaway around to help him bring some order to the rapidly mounting chaos, when his phone rang.

“Hello Laura, what can I do for you?”

“Send your ridiculous sergeant to bed?”

“Already done.”

“In which case, can you come over to the morgue? There’s something I want to show you.”

Lewis carefully pushed the paper further onto his desk and then departed to see what she had found for him.

Once he arrived at the morgue Laura called him in to where she was working.

“Father Paul was killed by a stab wound to the chest. It was a fairly wide blade, but quite thin; possibly some form of ceremonial dagger. And look here.”

She pointed out a small tattoo just above the ankle bone of the left leg.

“That’s unusual,” Lewis said. “Distinctive.”

“That’s what I thought. There’s an identical one on Ben Hamilton’s leg. I’ve checked and it looks as if the same weapon may have been used on both men.”

“Right, so it would appear that there’s a connection between Hamilton and Father Paul. I’ll start making enquiries.”

Lewis had not been back at the station for long when Innocent called in to speak to him.

“I’ve just had word from the Worcestershire police that Father Simon was at the symposium and is now on his way back down. It took them a while to contact him. It appears to have been a retreat as well; no mobile phones and no contact allowed before 10 am,” she said. “They each spent twelve hours alone reflecting on their responses to previous debates.”

“So that’s him out of the picture.”

“Which just leaves Father Michael.”

“And anyone Father Paul let into the house. It’s a standard Yale lock, so it would be easy to stab him and then leave again.”

“Surely Father Michael would have noticed.”

“I can ask him about that.”

Lewis’ phone rang and Innocent nodded to him to answer it.

“It’s Father Michael,” he said.

“Carry on,” she replied. “And keep me posted regarding your progress.”

Turning back to the phone he said, “Hello. How can I help you?”

“Your sergeant was asking me about Paul’s document bag. I’ve not found the bag, but I’ve just been looking through a pile of my papers and I don’t think they’re all mine. Would you recognise the one you were after?”

“Yes, I believe we would. Could you leave the papers alone until we get to you?”

“Certainly.”

***

Lewis thought it preferable to take Hathaway with him, so headed home to see whether he was well enough to accompany him. He was pleased to find the younger man was looking better and had eaten some lunch when he arrived. He brought Hathaway up to date whilst he made himself a sandwich and then they left to see Father Michael.

The priest let them into the house and led the way to his rooms, explaining that whilst the other two had bedrooms on the first floor and shared the large study on the ground floor, he had a smaller bedroom and study at the top.

“If anyone had come to visit Father Paul last night, would you have heard them?”

“It’s an old house, so the walls are quite thick. I hear very little from the ground floor up here, and once I’m asleep, I don’t tend to notice anything even from the floor below. I’m used to people coming and going either early or late, so it doesn’t generally disturb me.”

Michael indicated the wire tray which contained his papers and Hathaway started to look through it. Hathaway looked curiously at some of the papers.

“I assume these are all copies?” he said.

“Mine certainly are; the originals are too valuable to be handled regularly. That’s what made me suspicious. I don’t think that they are all copies.”

“ ‘How aspects of the faith relate to soldiering in the New Model Army’. Hardly a topic for a Catholic priest?”

“I may be a Catholic, sergeant, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate genuine attempts to live out one’s faith in difficult circumstances. Not everyone was a bigot, even then.”

“No, of course not.” As Hathaway spoke, Lewis noticed him starting to blush.

“I’m sorry,” Michael had noticed, too. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“It’s okay. I’ve encountered the odd bigot or two in this century as well.”

Michael looked as if he was about to say something else, but was prevented by Hathaway exclaiming, “This is it. No doubt about it. The corner’s been torn off.”

All three of them looked at the document. It was clear, even to Lewis, that the writer was expounding his thoughts. Some of the turns of phrase put him in mind of the more strident preachers he had come across. Although Hathaway and Michael were both reading intently, the actual content of the document was beyond him.

When they had finished reading, Hathaway and Father Michael looked at each other.

“I presume you’ve not seen this before?” Hathaway asked.

“No, never.” Michael looked stunned.

“Do you know the book it’s referring to?”

“Yes, it’s called ‘The Hours of Divine Refreshment’.”

Hathaway visibly started when Michael mentioned the book’s name.

“Have you heard of it?” Michael asked.

“Yes. But I’d assumed that it no longer existed, if in fact it ever had.”

“Oh, it still exists. Do you want me to show you?”

“Can you?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Michael led the way across to the chapel, with Hathaway close behind. Lewis trailed after them, wondering what exactly they were going to see, but aware that whatever it was could have a strong bearing on the case.

There was a small cupboard at the back of the chapel, which Michael unlocked and then after donning some cotton gloves, he removed a book, which he set down carefully on a small side table. Lewis looked curiously at the book, but, apart from admiring the intricate woodcarving on the cover, he could see nothing that would excite interest in it. Hathaway, however, was practically bouncing, like a small boy on a long awaited outing.

Lewis turned to him. “Sergeant, control yourself. You are behaving like a twelve year old at a One Direction concert.”

“Sir, you don’t understand. I’ve sat through lectures where this book has been referred to as the source of certain ideologies.   I’ve even argued the pros and cons of some of its ideas, not knowing that the book still existed and could be consulted.”

Michael looked surprised. “I wasn’t aware that police training included acceptable motivations from the sixteenth century.”

“Er, no. That was from before I joined the constabulary.” Hathaway sounded flustered.

“Right.”

Lewis decided that it would be a good idea to step in before things started to become awkward.

“So how does this book relate to the document?”

“It’s really a matter of interpretation. The first few pages, which are, I suspect, the ones that your sergeant would have discussed in his former life, are fairly general. They speak of self-denial, in forms that would have been acceptable in a monastic setting, while implying that they should also apply to those in secular occupations. However, as the book progresses, there is the implication that after stringent self-denial, the follower should have a period of indulgence in order to appreciate all the God-given good things. The question comes as to what one should be indulging in.”

Lewis looked puzzled.

“Let me give you an example. If you’ve had a bad illness and are stuck in bed for some days, the first day you are well enough to go into your garden, you really appreciate the flowers. Your appreciation will fade over time -- when you see them every day from the kitchen window, when you’re doing the washing up.”

“Let’s see if I understand. So the idea of the book would be that you would black out the windows so you couldn’t see anything and then you’d be struck by the beauty of the flowers again. And you’d keep repeating this?”

“That’s a simplified explanation, but in essence that’s the idea. The problem really comes because we are talking about denial of carnal pleasures, rather than simple appreciation of nature.”

“Food, drink, um, women?”

“Precisely.”

“I can see why it would have been frowned on at the time it was written, but does it really still have a place in today’s society?”

“Paul certainly thought there were possibilities. He had discussed with me the practicalities of such behaviour, although I am not sure how serious he was.”

“I’m not sure that I understand. I can see the attraction for someone like our Lyn when she was a student. When her money was running out she used to survive on beans on toast and such like for days, until we’d go up to see her and buy her a proper Sunday dinner.”

“That’s not actually what’s been spoken of. The implication, so far as I understand it, was that a follower should eat so much that he (and in those days it was always he) was sick, should drink until he was unable to move and I am sure I can leave to your imagination what would happen with regards to women.”

Hathaway shuddered and the other two turned towards him.

Father Michael took his elbow. “Are you okay? You’re not going to faint again are you?”

“No, it’s just ...” he paused. “I’m sorry. I think I need some fresh air.”

Lewis watched with consternation as Hathaway left the chapel, but he seemed to be walking steadily, so Lewis waited whilst Father Michael locked the book away again.

As they turned to walk out Lewis said, “I don’t suppose you have a tattoo above your left ankle, do you?”

“No.” Michael looked at him strangely.

“Do you mind if I check?”

“If you must.” He pulled his trouser leg up slightly and pushed down his sock. “See, no tattoo.”

“It’s just that Father Paul had one, and there was an identical one on a student who was also murdered.”

“Strange. I can’t say I ever noticed one, but then it’s not likely I would have. Was it a particular design?”

“Nothing I recognised. If I get a copy, could I ask you to look at it, in case it means something to you?”

“Yes, of course.”

As they walked outside, Lewis saw Hathaway sitting on a low wall. He was shaking and Lewis was instantly concerned.

“Come on, let’s get you back home,” he said.

“No, I’m not ill. You don’t understand.”

“But still ...”

Lewis took a step towards him, but Hathaway stood up and made as if to walk in the opposite direction.

“How can people, people who claim to be religious, behave in such a fashion? Use their religion to justify their actions?”

Lewis thought briefly. “What exactly did Black say to you when he was holding that knife on you?”

“I’m not telling you, sir. I can’t go through it again just for you to have a record.”

“I’m not asking for that reason. I happen to think it might be better for you to tell someone rather than bottle it up.”

“This may not be appropriate,” Father Michael interrupted, “but it may be that I can help. If you want someone to talk to, someone who is a stranger rather than a colleague you will be seeing every day, then I would be willing to listen.”

“Thank you. I can’t at the moment ...” Hathaway looked genuinely grateful for the offer.

“I understand. I’m involved in your current case and it wouldn’t be professional. The offer will still be there when this is over.”

Lewis nodded at Father Michael. “Thank you,” he said. “I think we should be going now.”

The two detectives had begun to walk towards the car when a second priest rushed up.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “What are these men doing here?”

“This is Inspector Lewis and Sergeant Hathaway from Oxford police. They had come to ask some more questions about Paul’s death.”

“So why are you here, rather than in the house; or better still, at the police station?”

Lewis and Hathaway had returned and Lewis turned to the newcomer. “And who are you, sir?”

Father Michael spoke up. “This is Father Simon, the third resident in our house.”

“Ah yes, the gentleman who was unreachable for a number of hours last night.”

“I believe one should be prepared to exercise self-denial and that includes the use of modern communications.”

Lewis bit back a comment about bingeing on them afterwards, and said “Now that you are in a position to communicate with us, I’d be grateful if we could ask you some questions. Shall we go back to your house, or would you prefer to go to the police station?”

“The house. Although since, as you are aware, I have not been present, I fail to see how I can assist you.”

“We have some more general questions about Father Paul.”

The four of them walked back to the house, where Father Simon showed them into the study, pointedly shutting the door so Father Michael couldn’t follow them.

“Were you aware that Father Paul had any enemies?” Lewis began.

“There are always those who see a man of the cloth as a threat.”

“But no-one in particular.”

The priest shook his head.

“How much did you know about Father Paul’s interest in ‘The Hours of Divine Refreshment’?” Hathaway continued the questioning.

“I leave my colleagues to their own spheres of research; I think it’s better that way.”

“And do you have your own area of research?”

“I don’t think that’s in any way relevant.”

It was clear that Father Simon had no further information that he was prepared to volunteer, so Lewis and Hathaway left.

“For someone who has no interest in research on that book, Father Simon was extremely agitated that we had been to the chapel,” Lewis said.

“Agreed; do you want me to make further enquiries, sir?”

“No, I want you to go back to my place and rest. Then tomorrow, if you’re up to it, you can start looking through the statements and see what connections you can find between our three corpses. Meanwhile, now that we know the dictates of the book, I am going to take Julie and we’ll take another look at Ben Hamilton’s room and see if we can find anything that ties in.”

***

The following morning, they had been in the office for about half an hour when the phone rang. Lewis answered and then put the phone on speaker so Hathaway could hear as well.

“Our friend thinks she’s got some information about Ben Hamilton.”

Sounds of whispering.

“We think she should come in to see you, but she says it’s probably nothing and she doesn’t want to trouble you.”

“We’re willing to listen to anyone who thinks they can help. Even if it doesn’t seem important,” Lewis replied.

More whispering.

“She doesn’t want to do anything formal.”

“Would it help if we arranged to meet you at The Missing Bean?”

Hathaway nodded in agreement.

“Yes, that would be great. Would half an hour’s time be okay?”

Lewis agreed and the girl on the other end rang off.

“How are we going to recognise them?” Hathaway asked.

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem. We look like policemen, remember!”

Hathaway’s doubts were indeed unfounded. As they walked into the café, a girl stood up and waved them over.

“I saw you yesterday,” she said to Lewis, “you were looking in Ben’s room, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was. Which one of you had the information for us?”

“Me, Beth,” said a dark-haired girl.

“I think it would be better if you spoke to us by yourself.”

Beth started to look nervous.

“What I suggest is that you move to the table there,” Lewis pointed at a free table a few feet away, “with one of us, whilst the other stays with your two friends.”

Beth stood up. “Yes, that will be fine. I’ll talk to you, um, oh I’m sorry; I’ve forgotten your name.”

“I’m Inspector Lewis; this is Sergeant Hathaway.”

Lewis went over to the other table with Beth, whilst the remaining two girls sat one either side of Hathaway, who looked trapped. Lewis couldn’t resist smiling.

“It’s okay,” Beth said. “They’re harmless. Mostly.”

Lewis chuckled as the two of them sat down. “Okay, what do you have to tell me?”

“I saw Ben in the Bird and Baby on Sunday evening. I didn’t think any more of it at first.”

“Have we taken your statement?”

“Yes, but all I said was he was with a couple of other people. But then I saw the picture of the theology lecturer and I realised he’d been one of the people with Ben. Only I started to think that maybe my brain was playing tricks and that I was imagining two dead people together. And I didn’t want to be accused of wasting police time.”

“We take all information seriously and even if you were mistaken we wouldn’t accuse you for a genuine error. Can you tell me anything about the third person?”

“No, I’m afraid not. He looked like a student; about my age.”

“Did your friends see Ben or Dr Jones?”

“No, I only noticed them because I’d been to the Ladies.”

“Did you get a good look at Dr Jones?”

“No, he was sitting in the corner, so he was mostly in the shade. I noticed him because I’m studying history of art and I’m currently fascinated by the use of light and shadow. It seemed such a good example.”

Lewis nodded. “Thank you for coming forward. You’ve been very helpful.”

He stood up and glanced at Hathaway, who practically leapt out of his seat. Lewis tried not to smile again.

“Was it useful?” Hathaway asked Lewis as they left the coffee shop.

“Beth believes she saw Evan Jones with Hamilton on the Sunday evening. I know no-one else has identified him, but from her description he was trying not to be noticed. We already know of a connection between Father Paul and Jones, and Father Paul and Hamilton, so it might well be possible that Jones and Hamilton did know each other.”

“So we need to see if we can find any further evidence of that.”

“Gurdip’s been looking at Jones’ laptop; with any luck he’ll have something for us when we get back to the station.”

***

Gurdip arrived bearing the laptop shortly after they were back in their office.

“I can’t see anything especially useful on here,” he said, “but there are a lot of documents that might make more sense to you than me, sir.”

Hathaway took the machine and glanced at the document titles in the folder Gurdip had opened.

“Thank you. This should prove helpful.”

Hathaway read through the various documents, occasionally making notes, whilst Lewis added various notes to the timeline they had created, drawing together the known movements of all three victims in the hope of seeing a pattern.

Laura phoned, but Hathaway couldn’t decipher what she was telling Lewis from his limited replies, which were mostly comprised of “Oh,” “I see” and “Right”.

When Lewis finished the call he turned to Hathaway and said “How’s it going?”

“I’ve had to reconsider my ideas a bit, but I think I now know what Jones was doing.”

“Excellent. You can tell me over lunch. We’ll eat at home and then you can stay there for the afternoon.”

Hathaway opened his mouth to complain, but thought better of it.

Lewis was now determined that Hathaway make a proper recovery and therefore insisted that they eat a decent lunch, rather than grabbing a quick sandwich as they had done earlier in the week. Accordingly, they waited until the food was on the table before Hathaway began to explain what he had found.

“My first thought was that Jones was a proponent of the excesses the ‘Divine Refreshment’ espouses. But the more I read, the more I realised that his interest was that of an academic seeking to disprove a theory. He had looked into the ideas very thoroughly and was refuting them on a point by point basis.”

“Had he seen the book?”

“No. From what I’ve read, Father Paul wasn’t entirely convinced of his devotion and therefore wouldn’t let him see it.”

“So we were highly honoured?”

“More likely Father Michael doesn’t hold it in such high standing.”

“Hm, but he must have seen the document.”

“It would seem that Father Paul had lent it to him in an attempt to convince him of the benefits of the beliefs. They were discussing the document and when Jones continued to deny the benefits Father Paul snatched it out of Jones’ hand.”

“Which was how the corner came to be ripped off.”

“Correct. There was one further thing. It would appear that in addition to the denial and then indulge process, it was felt that one’s appreciation of the spiritual world could be enhanced by certain stimulants. Father Paul had brought a suitable stimulant with him when he came to see Jones. I’m not sure whether Jones had tried it or not, although his writing gives the impression that he had.”

“Which would tie in with what Laura told me when she phoned. They found that Jones had ingested what she described as a stimulant, which of itself wouldn’t have killed him. But he seems to have had an allergic reaction. Traces of the stimulant were found in a mug in Jones’ room.”

“Which means that it might have been self-inflicted. But why was there such a long gap between Father Paul’s visit and the time Jones died? Surely an allergic reaction would have happened much quicker?”

“Laura believes that the stimulant was added to a mug of herbal tea to make it more palatable. But Jones had let the tea grow cold before he drank it, so he consumed it probably a couple of hours after Father Paul’s visit. The porter had told the forensics team that it was common for him to drink tea that had been cold for three or four hours, so it wasn’t an unusual act on his part.”

“Does that mean that we are no longer concerned with Jones?”

“We’ll wait for formal confirmation, but in the matter of his death, then yes. However, he is still a valid link between the deaths of Hamilton and Father Paul. Do you think Jones knew that Hamilton was dead?”

“I doubt that he did. He seems to have been quite self-contained and not particularly aware of anything that didn’t directly involve himself and his work. There was nothing to connect the two of them at the time Jones died.”

“Does he make any mention of Hamilton? Or indeed the other person who was with them?”

“The only evidence I could find was in a paragraph dealing with similarities to a cult, where he wrote ‘B seems to be having some doubts, but A remains convinced.’ It’s possible that B is Ben Hamilton.”

“Doesn’t help much in narrowing down the possibilities; student, first name begins with A.” Lewis’ frustration was evident.

“As far as I can tell, the last thing Jones was working on was some notes for what seems to have been a further meeting he was anticipating attending. There were some fairly explicit notes, complete with both Biblical and other references, which he would have used to counter some of the more extreme statements that were being made. The document was headed with what I took to be a diary entry, for today, 4pm, in the chapel where we first met Father Paul.”

“It seems unlikely that that particular meeting will go ahead.”

“I’m not so sure about that, sir. It may be that the group will meet anyway, to remember those who died and to pray for them.”

“So you think that the mysterious A may be there?”

“It’s a possibility. Are you thinking of going?”

“If it could provide us with a potential lead then it won’t do any harm. I’m not going to disturb them whilst they’re praying, but I shall emphasise that any help they can provide could prove valuable.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, you stay here and get your rest. If I find anything useful, I can always call you in later.”

Once Lewis had left to return to the station, Hathaway considered making further notes, but was forced to acknowledge that he was actually feeling quite tired and decided that lying down on his bed might be a better idea. Accordingly, he got into bed and pulled the duvet over himself, intending to doze for twenty minutes before returning to work.

He was woken by his phone ringing and groggily answered it. “Hathaway.”

“Good afternoon, sergeant. It’s Father Michael. I had hoped to reach Inspector Lewis, but he’s not answering his phone.”

“Hello, Father. What did you want to tell him?”

“He sent me a copy of the tattoo that Father Paul and the young man had on their ankles, to see if I knew what it meant. I don’t, but I have seen the same tattoo on the back of Father Simon’s wrist. Would you be able to pass the information onto him, as I think it may be important?”

“Why?” Hathaway was already putting his shoes on.

“Simon told me that the meeting he had planned for this afternoon wasn’t going ahead due to Paul’s death. But then I overheard him on his phone saying, ‘We’ll go ahead as planned, Andy, Father Paul would expect us to. Make sure you’re there.’ It didn’t sound right, so I’m going to the chapel myself now. You’ll let the inspector know?”

The priest rang off before Hathaway could reply.

Hathaway tried Lewis’ mobile for himself, but as expected there was no response. He phoned the station, where Julie confirmed that Lewis had left, saying that he was going to the chapel. He told her that he, too, was going to the chapel and requested that she arrange for a police car to meet him there.

***

It didn’t take Hathaway long to reach the chapel. He opened the door quietly and slipped inside, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He could see three figures standing close together by the altar rail. Their faces were in the shadows and Hathaway walked quietly forward, in order to identify them. One of the figures knelt down and he realised it was Lewis. This seemed so out of character, that Hathaway looked more closely and saw to his horror that this was because one of the others was holding a knife to his chest.

Hathaway swallowed. Black’s words came unbidden into his head. ‘If a man’s hand causes him to sin then he should cut it off. If your actions cause me to deviate from the path, then I must cut you off.’

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement from the vestry. Then a commanding voice said “Simon.”

The priest turned to face the speaker. “Leave, Michael. You have nothing to do with this.”

He started to turn back towards Lewis, but before he could do anything, Father Michael sprinted the short distance between them and took him out with a rugby tackle. Before Father Simon had time to move off the floor, Lewis had produced his handcuffs and snapped them round the man’s wrists.

Hathaway ran up and joined them. “That was impressive,” he said.

Father Michael grinned. “I played scrum half for my university before I studied for the priesthood. Clearly some things are not quickly forgotten.”

“And I, for one, am very grateful for that fact,” Lewis said. “Thank you.”

With Father Simon restrained, Hathaway left the chapel and returned with two uniformed officers, who he instructed to take the priest to the station. As they left, he once again heard Black in his head cursing him for obstructing God’s purpose. He looked at Lewis, trying to ground himself and saw Lewis’ concerned expression. He heard singing in his ears and then was aware of someone either side of him, sitting him on the floor and encouraging him to breathe. Slowly, the world righted itself and he looked up.

“I’m okay now.”

“Good,” Lewis said, although he didn’t sound convinced. “We shall need to interview both of you,” he added, speaking to Andy and Father Michael.

“Does this have to be a formal interview at the station?” Father Michael asked. “Because if not, then we could go back to the house and I could make us some tea.”

“That seems like a very good idea. We shall need to look in Father Simon’s room as well, so I can do that at the same time.”

The four of them walked together to the house. Once inside, Andy started to look increasingly nervous.

“I imagine you’d like to get this over as soon as possible,” Lewis said to him.

“Yes, please.”

“You can use my study,” Father Michael said, leading the way upstairs. “And then I can tell Sergeant Hathaway what I know while I make the tea.”

Hathaway started to relax as he watched Father Michael pottering around the kitchen. The priest confirmed what he had told Hathaway on the phone, that he had remembered seeing the tattoo on his colleague’s wrist, but that his suspicions had been roused when he overheard him speaking to Andy on the phone. Although he knew of Father Paul’s interest in the pursuit of divine refreshment, he hadn’t been aware of Father Simon’s interest in it; nor had he known that there was a group devoted to it.

“I have my own commitments, so we didn’t tend to see much of each other, except for when we were involved in services, so that most of our conversation was geared towards them. Paul and I used to talk occasionally about our studies, but Simon and I had very little in common.”

He poured two mugs of tea.

“I’ll leave your inspector’s tea in the pot until they come back down.   I’m not sure there’s much more I can tell you. Do you have any further questions?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

Hathaway thought that Father Michael looked as if he might say something further, but Lewis and Andy joined them in the kitchen and the moment passed.

In the car on the way back to the station Hathaway said, “I presume that Andy is the “A” that Jones had mentioned. What did he have to tell you?”

“Yes, he is. He confirms that he met with Jones and Ben Hamilton in the pub on Sunday night. He didn’t come forward first of all, because he had gone home for his grandmother’s funeral on the Monday morning and didn’t return until late Wednesday. He says when he heard about the deaths he’d phoned Father Simon who had told him that it appeared that someone was targeting followers of Divine Refreshment and that the police had told him that they should keep quiet so as not to draw attention to themselves.”

“And he believed him?”

“He does seem to have been particularly gullible.”

Once at the station, Innocent met them. “I’ve asked DI Garrett to conduct the interview with Father Simon, so that there is no question of a conflict of interest. We’ve sent the knife he was using to forensics to see if it is the same one that was used to kill Ben Hamilton and Father Paul. And Garrett will be asking him about the murders, but at the moment we have no proof that he was involved.”

Hathaway was not happy as they walked to their office. “He’s got to have been involved. I can’t see who else it could have been.”

“He could claim that he found the knife in the house and that it belonged to Father Michael. And don’t forget he was on retreat in Worcester when Father Paul was killed.”

Hathaway bashed open the office door and slumped into his chair. He looked up as Gurdip knocked.

“I’ve been looking at the calls that Father Paul made and received on the night he was killed, to see if we can establish who he was in contact with. There weren’t many, one about 6.30 to Woodlands Nursing Home, one to a number in Scotland, which turns out to be that of the Iona Community and then three calls between 10 and 11 that night, all of them to Father Simon.”

“But he must have known that Simon was on retreat. How long were the calls; answer phone message length?”

“Two of about five minutes each, the longest was seven minutes. Too long for leaving a message.”

Lewis caught up with Garrett when he came out of the interview room and passed on the message about the phone calls.

Garrett nodded. “Right. I’ll ask him. Are you going to watch?”

Lewis and Hathaway took their places in front of the viewing screen.

Garrett returned to the interview room and sat down opposite Father Simon.

“I understand that you spoke to Father Paul late on Wednesday evening.”

“He had a problem; he needed someone to talk to.”

“Surely he could have spoken to Father Michael, who was in the house at the time?”

“It wasn’t appropriate to talk to Michael; he wouldn’t appreciate the significance of Paul’s dilemma.”

“So you broke your retreat to talk to him?”

“It was unavoidable.”

“And then what happened?”

“I drove back to see him.”

“It was sufficiently important that you drive from Worcester to Oxford, a journey which would take about an hour and a half, in the middle of the night, and break your retreat?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have done so otherwise.”

“And can you tell me what happened when you arrived back at your house?”

“We talked. I left him and drove back.”

“How was he when you left him?”

“He was reflecting on the true meaning of the Night Office.”

“I see.”

It was clear to Lewis that Garrett wasn’t convinced by Father Simon, but that without further proof of his guilt he was going to have difficulties making a charge of murder stick. Then Hathaway turned to him.

“I need to have another look at The Book of Divine Refreshment.”

He headed out of the station, speaking on his phone, whilst Lewis hurried to keep up with him.

“Father Michael will meet us at the chapel,” he said.

***

By the time they arrived, Father Michael had the book out and he handed Hathaway a pair of gloves to wear whilst he turned the pages.

“Here,” Hathaway said, pointing at the book. “I knew I’d seen it yesterday.”

He read out loud, “Should any man die, then it would be as well for him that he may die towards the end of the night, so that he may reflect on what the Night Office truly means, before prayers are made for his soul.”

“But surely that refers to someone dying from natural causes?” Lewis said.

Father Michael shook his head. “You would think so, but I am not entirely convinced.” He turned the pages and pointed out an entry to Hathaway. “Read that.”

“If any man who has participated in this refreshment turns away and seeks to deny it, then it is clear that he needs to reflect on the meaning of the Night Office.”

Lewis swore and promptly apologised. Hathaway meanwhile had taken out his phone and was asking to leave a message for Garrett.

“Hello, sir. I wasn’t sure if you were still in the interview room. Could you ask Father Simon if he prayed for the soul of Father Paul?”

Lewis looked at Father Michael. “You seem to know this book quite well for someone who claims not to be a follower of its way.”

The priest gave a small smile. “Paul and I used to have discussions about it and some passages in particular. However, much as he was interested in following the ways laid out here, he admitted there were problems with what was suggested at times.”

They thanked Father Michael and returned to the station where they were met by Garrett.

“Father Simon confirmed that he did pray for the soul of Father Paul. I said that my understanding from that would be that that Father Paul was dead. To which he replied my understanding was correct. Then, when I mentioned Ben Hamilton, he said he had prayed for his soul, too. I’ve told Innocent and she’s contacted the bishop, who will arrange for legal representation for him.”

“Not much left for us to do here today, then,” Lewis said. “We might as well go home.”

Once back at the flat, Lewis told Hathaway to settle himself on the settee.

“Now, do you want to talk about anything that’s happened over the last few days?” Lewis said.

“Not really, sir. What I’d really like is the lasagne I saw in your freezer the other day when I was finding myself some lunch, some of the wine I know you have in your cupboard and to spend the evening vegging out in front of the tele. If that’s alright with you?”

“That, sergeant, is one of your better suggestions. I shall get on with it right away.”


End file.
